Intolerance
by Reagan
Summary: Sam's not dealing with the MS news well. Set just before 18th and Potomac.


Title: Intolerance

Author: Reagan Vir87@bigfoot.com

Rating: PG-15, adult language, drinking

Spoilers: Set just before 18th & Potomac

Author Notes: Never written a Sam piece, blame it on the genius that is Maynard James Keenan.

It's a short piece I wrote in a hour, a record for me. Been spell checked but unbeated. Yes, it's a songfic. The band is Tool, the song is Intolerance and you can find the lyrics at: http://www.toolband.com

Archive: Sure, let me know and keep my name attached.

Feedback: See the above e-mail address, all thoughts are welcome and encouraged.

  
  


Intolerance

  
  


They had gone to Sam's place because there was no way they could have this conversation at a bar. The possibility of someone overhearing was to great. So they had gone to Sam's place because it was the cleanest apartment. He had left shortly before the rest and was already working on a newly purchased bottle of Crown Royal when he opened the door for the others. He knew that tonight was no time for beer. After these last few weeks beer was not going to be nearly enough but Crown seemed right.

  
  


CJ and Toby were sharing a bottle of expensive scotch while Josh drank his beer.

  
  


"Is there some rational reason why we still don't know if he's going to run?" Sam spat rather bitterly.

  
  


CJ raised an eyebrow, trying to avoid having to deal with an angry, betrayed Sam. "Since when do you drink Crown?"

  
  


"Since I found out the President has a degenerating debilitating illness that he didn't bother telling anyone about." His voice is icy.

  
  


"Back off Sam." Toby attempted to glare his deputy down.

  
  


"Back off what Toby? Do you honestly think that we'd know if you hadn't wondered what the hell Hoynes was up to? Wasn't this little tidbit relevant to us, to say nothing of the American people, in order to decide who would lead our country?" Sam was seething.

  
  


"Getting mad about it won't change anything, Sam." Josh said trying to calm his best friend down.

  
  


"Forgive me if I don't appreciate being lied to by a man I believed was different. Better."

  
  


"Don't transfer your anger for your father into anger and disappointment in the President." Toby yelled back.

  
  
  
  


Slamming back another swallow of the whiskey, then refilling the tumbler. "Fuck you Toby. Forgive me if I can't appreciate the fact that my father's been lying to me for as long as I can remember and the that my boss, 'a good man,' has been lying to me since the day we met."

  
  


"Don't you even care that his body is slowly killing him?" CJ railed back.

  
  


"Of course I care. You think I don't realize that there's going to come a day when his body no longer responds to the commands of his mind? You're damn right I care, but what if he has an episode while in the Sit Room, or meeting some foreign leader? What if during a time when we need his leadership he's not physically able to carry out the duties of his office? Does Leo step in? What about Hoynes and the 25th? Is that pall going to be cast over everything we have done and will continue to do for as long as he remains in office?"

  
  


Wiping a hand across his brow similar to Toby's frequent habit, Sam blows a tormented breath out. "I didn't sign on for this CJ. None of us did."

  
  


"You're not going to quit." Josh states emphatically, more a declaration than a question.

  
  


"I don't know what I'm going to do." Pointing his finger and waving at them. It's obvious he's becoming drunk. "But we need music."

  
  


Sam takes his refilled glass over to the shelf alongside his television. There's a stack of cds he begins to browse through.

  
  


The others in the room are sharing worried glances and concerned frowns.

  
  


At the bottom of the pile is a cd that is obviously not listened to often but Sam unearths it in triumph. "Yes!" He turns in a rather drunk manner waving his prize to the others. "This is what we need. My ex-roommate called it angry young man music. Definitely what we need here."

  
  


He proceeds to insert the cd to the player and turn up the volume. The room is silent for the first ten seconds of the cd before the guitar and drums are heard.

  
  


I don't want to be hostile.

I don't want to be dismal.

But I don't want to rot in,

An apathetic existence.

See I want to believe you,

And I wanted to trust you.

And I want to have faith, to put away the dagger.

  
  


"The hell is this crap?" Toby yells out over the loud throbbing beat.

  
  


Finishing off yet another glass, Sam replies, "This is what our President just did to us and the public."

  
  
  
  


But you lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

And yet I tolerate you.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

And yet I tolerate you.

  
  


"Sam you don't honestly believe that do you?" Josh is now really worried about Sam's mental and emotional state of mind.

  
  


"What? Isn't that what he did? He lied about his health. In so doing he cheated not only us, but the entire country from making an informed decision about who they wanted as President, and thus he stole an election. Do you have any idea the number of laws they're going to accuse him of breaking? Not to mention the fact that he betrayed our trust in him. CJ's been going in front of the press three times daily and lying through no fault of her own, but do you think that's going to matter to a grand jury or the senate judiciary committee?" Sam's diatribe stopped as he once again listened to the rage of the singer relating to the hurt and anger blaring throughout his apartment.

  
  


Veil of virtue hung,

To hide your method,

While I smile and laugh and dance,

And sing your praise and glory.

Shroud of virtue hung to mask your stigma.

As I smile and laugh,

And dance and sing your glory.

  
  


No one knew just how to respond to that. He was right. They all felt betrayed. Toby had a chance to flay Leo and the President. The others hadn't been afforded that opportunity. So an emotional blood letting here in Sam's apartment might not be a bad thing the Communications Director thought. Rather here than in the West Wing.

  
  


CJ and Josh were worried about Sam's ability to recover from yet another bitter disappointment by a man he idolized. The young writer had been beaten down so many times already this year by men he thought he could trust: Leo, Toby, his father, and now the last good man he knew, the President.

  
  


While you lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

And yet I tolerate you.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

How can I tolerate you?

  
  
  
  


Sam beat his hand on the counter in time with the music. The other hand clinching his sixth glass of whiskey. He didn't pay any attention to his friends, to caught up in his own mind and the words to the song.

  
  


Sam threw back another mouthful of the burning liquid and pointed to the others. "Oooohhh. This, this is us."

  
  


Our guilt,

Our blame,

I've been far too sympathetic.

Our blood,

Our fault.

I've been far too sympathetic.

  
  


I am not innocent.

I am not innocent.

You are not innocent.

No one is innocent.

  
  


CJ winced at the innocent comments. She understood that ignorance as a defense would be trampled by bloodthirsty Republicans and a vicious press corps. It would never matter that she didn't know the truth till just a few short days ago. She stood in front of the press and lied daily, by omission or deliberate ignorance for years. It was conceivable that not only could she lose her job but end up in jail as an added bonus. 'It's the fall that kills you.' She remembers choking on those prophetic words that she uttered to Josh as she walked away that night. Sam's outburst didn't seem so extreme anymore.

  
  


Josh wanted to shake Sam. It hurt him to watch his trust broken by yet other person. It hurt to watch calm collected Samuel Seaborn find commonality with the angry rantings of the man figuratively bleeding through his speakers. It hurt to listen to this vitriol knowing that it's more on par with his President's actions than he ever imagined possible.

  
  


You lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

You lie, cheat, and steal.

Lie, cheat, and steal.

Lie, cheat, and steal.

Lie, cheat, and steal.

  
  


I will no longer tolerate you.

Even if I must go down beside you.

Because, no one is innocent. 

  
  


The song finally ended and Sam's energy fled with it. The room was spinning and he put his forehead on the cool counter top, shutting his eyes to regain equilibrium. Toby walked across the room turning off the cd player, a deafening silence filled the void.

  
  


"God, I'm tired." Sam muttered to the counter.

  
  


Josh took that as an impetus to act. "Come on buddy, let's put you to bed. You've had more than enough."

  
  


Sam didn't open his eyes as Josh led him down the hall, knowing that his friend wouldn't run him into a wall. Josh maneuvered to seat him on the bed, beginning to strip off clothes till Sam was down to his boxers. It was a battle as Sam began to nod off, to shift his body beneath the covers. "Things'll look better in the morning." Josh told his friend, praying that would be the case.

  
  


Josh came out to find CJ and Toby quietly sharing their scotch. It seems neither of them knew what to say to the other. Some great communicators they were.

  
  


"Is he going to be alright?" CJ asked.

  
  


Josh shrugged, "Are any of us?"

  
  


"Come on let's get out of here. Sleep's about the only thing we can accomplish tonight. We'll figure out if this was more than just alcohol later." Toby suggested pulling CJ and pushing Josh out of the apartment toward his car.

  
  


The next day didn't get any easier.

  
  



End file.
